26 July 2007

On the Catwalk

I've joined an on-line Bible Study going through the Book of Esther.

We're just getting started, so I've got a lot of first impressions.

Impression #1: King Xerxes might be an impressive historical character, but his character has not impressed me. All I can think is, "Dumb jock." Captain of the high school football team. Leader of the pack. Poster boy for Beverly Hills 90210. Xerxes was more concerned with his own pleasure and coolness factor than he is with, oh, say, his wife's purity and honor. The welfare of his own subjects. Rogues undermining his rule from within.
Xerxes liked to preen.
Xerxes liked Xerxes.

Impression #2: The coolness factor played heavily into Xerxes summoning Vashti into the party to... preen along with him? Parade? Perform? Pole dance? Prostitute? (Yes, it sounds crass, but when you read the text, what do YOU think? The door is left pretty wide open.) Once again, Xerxes cared more about what other dudes thought of him than caring for those entrusted to his care.
"Hey man, you think YOUR girl is hot? Wait 'til you get a load of MINE!"

Impression #3: So, given a direct order from your husband to come into a room full of drunken, partying men...
an order to do... well, whatever you're told to do...
Knowing that the order comes from a king and husband who is rather muddle-headed and tipsy himself...
And knowing that your husband cares very little for your honor when placed beside his own, even when he's sober...

I have to put my feet into Vashti's shoes for a moment. What would I do?
I don't know. Tonight this question is a noodler.

So until I figure out a satisfying answer, I'll contemplate this very dysfunctional marriage scenario and play you a song that completely reminds me of Xerxes, the high school football King. This song played on the radio when I was in high school.

Xerxes is preening on the catwalk.
On the catwalk.
Vashti, do a little turn on the catwalk...

Too Sexy; Right Said Fred

Labels: ,

20 July 2007

Oh Me.

Today has been one of those days that can fall into a myriad of categories all at the same time.

- Very bad
- Really good
- Painful
- Therapeutic
- Beautiful
- Grotesque
- Hellish
- Heavenly
- Breaking
- Building
- Spinning our wheels
- Making great strides
- Oxymoronic
- Just plain moronic

This is July 20th, 2007.

It all started with a pinch on her arm. Which led to an elbow in her cheek. Which was enough to crack the dam of a Lake Superior of emotion, screeching, stomping, squalling, sinning, crashing down,
swirling around,
sweeping us up,
bashing us to the ground.

So we found our separate corners, the four of us. We called our friends and canceled plans. More weeping and gnashing of teeth in my direction.
Couch time. Family meeting. CONSEQUENCES.

The Sequence of consequences:
A pinch for a pinch,
an elbow for an elbow.
Now... don't you feel loved?

Momma brings out the big guns:
Be devoted to one another in brotherly (sisterly) love.
Honor one another above yourselves.
You feelin' loved? You feelin' honored? You lettin' her know you're devoted to her with that elbow?
Think about it, talk about it, pray about it, copy it.
Yep, the big guns.

Those chores you're doing tomorrow... do them today.
Mom, why are you being so harsh? Why so many consequences for one

Is there any such thing as one
Let's ask that man on the cross, shall we?

There's a Biblical theory here, my dear, it's called storing up wrath.
It's called the Day of Judgment.
On a maternal scale, mind you.
It's called reaping what you sow.

This one
is evidence of a pattern, an attitude, a treatment, a perspective and a lifestyle.
Time to root it out.
Time to breathe deeply and dive to the bottom of it.

The consequence of consequences:
One child crying in my arms about missing her best friend. (This is a deep, deep well.)
Same child asking if she can go to bed earlier at night. She's too tired and irritable these days.
She asked me.
Another child takes a nap on her own. Runs into my arms for unsolicited affection. Contemplates the effect of sin on her own heart.

We're purging out the bilge water.
Very bad, really good, painful, therapeutic, beautiful, grotesque, hellish and heavenly
Spinning our wheels, making great strides, oxymoronic, just plain moronic,

I reflect on this in the quiet of my separate corner.
And soon hear screaming, scuffling.

It all started with a pull of her hair.
Which led to a slap on her arm.

Post Script.
5:17 PM, July 20th, 2007
Sometimes a mother's love expresses itself in funky ways. Like pink hairspray.

Restoration of Fellowship


17 July 2007

I'm Giving Away Free Stuff

Over at SoulPerBlog, we're kicking off our next session (going through the book of Esther) with a few celebratory giveaways.
This week it's my turn. Get thee hence and throw in your lot to see if you might win a little something.

If you're interested in joining this round of SoulPerSuit but have been putting off joining the group, wait no longer. Registration is shutting down on JULY 19th. While you're entering my giveaway, visit the purple Yahoo! button (in the sidebar of SoulPerBlog) and click yourself into our summer study group. I'll be looking for you.

One thing I find very intriguing about the Book of Esther is that God is not mentioned in it one, single, solitary time. Not once. If that is not pregnant with meaning... well, I don't know what is. And if the glaring omission of a certain Someone's Name (above all names) is not fodder for some serious creative exploration... well, I don't know what is. Welcome to SoulPerSuit.

Labels: , ,

15 July 2007

News Flash (es)

This just in folks,
Rhonda's giving away a copy of the 3.1.6. Journal over on SoulPerBlog. Git yer hiney over there and join the ranks of name-tossers-in-the-hatters. You've got until Monday evening!!

This also coming across the news desk,
My youngest sister's wedding was a lovely affair.
We all had our underwear present and accounted for.
Mommy didn't forget to pack one. single. solitary. thing.
You may now throw ME a ticker tape parade!! :) (This is quite an accomplishment, for those of you who don't know.)

From our garden correspondent,
There are approximately 60 tomatoes plumping up in my garden. The grapevines are growing madly, although the Japanese beetles seem to be keeping pace, grrrr! Morning glories greet me every morning, and the cosmos and zinnias are popping open their blooms. My cucumber, squash, zucchini and watermelon plants are r e a c h i n g hither and yon to wrap their tendrils around anything and everything that will offer them support. "Spilling over" is the phrase that comes to mind as I look at them all over the place.
My, my, it's a beautiful green out there!

Back to you at the news desk.

Labels: , ,

12 July 2007

I Could Journal About Underwear.

I'm sitting here today, trying to avoid packing up my family to drive to my sister's wedding this weekend. I'm completely thrilled that she is getting married. And completely thrilled to be one of her bridesmaids (ahem, matrons, ahem). And completely thrilled that my three lovelies will help escort her down a petal-strewn path to her groom.

But I hate packing. My big-picture brain likes to argue over little details like, "Of course I'm going to remember to bring underwear! Who forgets underwear?! It's such an obvious, logical, thing to pack, I'm going to remember to take it. Never fear."
Those words. Right there. Ought to strike fear in my heart.
Just between you and me, 8 years ago we moved to England for a 7 month stint and I forgot to pack my underwear. Once I actually made this discovery, I was way too embarrassed to call the missionaries staying in our TX home on furlough for those 7 months to ask them if they'd found a neatly piled stack of women's underwear in my dresser drawer. I simply went out and clothed myself in British garments and got on with my life. My husband probably said, "Aye carumba." I know I did.

So, we've established that I am not supremely detail-oriented. I have learned this about myself, and now I DO make packing lists and check sheets and mind my P's and Q's when it comes to packing and preparing for trips. But I don't like to do it. And obviously, it's a weakness for me. Which means it takes it e f f o r t. Don't like the "E" word too much.

This weekend is a BIG event, which means I have a lot of things to remember to pack, and a lot of people to pack for, and a lot of their things to remember to pack.
E f f o r t.
P r e s s u r e.
Y u c k y.

It's so nice outside today. The kids are next door playing happily. My garden looks lovely. There's a gigantically long packing list sitting on my dresser next to a stack of neatly folded women's underwear. And I'm not going in there. Not until the sun goes down. I'm avoiding it. Maybe if I wait it'll all pack itself.

Rather than packing underwear, hair curlers, bobby pins, little girl tights and hair spray, let's sit outside and enjoy the puffy clouds together, shall we? This is what I love about laptops and wireless networking. Would you like a glass of lemonade? I'll even tell you a quirky story.

Last weekend, I found myself in two local bookstores on two separate occasions and...
never, ever, ever should I go into a bookstore without a chaperone! Something happens to my brain and I suddenly think I'm made of money and time. I convince myself that our budget can handle $100 worth of books in one fell swoop, and that the stack of books on my bedside table that's 10 high and 8 deep still has plenty of room for a few more, and that my kids don't need to eat meals or have their bottoms wiped ever again. Something tells me this has to do with that part of me that's convinced I'll remember to pack the underwear.

So, as a nod to reality but still meeting my urge to buy a book, I usually buy a journal.
I love to imagine writing deep thoughts in a book that beckons. And these journals positively beckon me! Journals are cheaper than a book. There's much less content in a journal, so I'll be done reading in a flash and ready to get back to my 10 x 8 bookstack obligations and my starving, unwiped children. My logic on this is fool-proof. Except for one thing...

I don't journal.

I've tried. Failed. Tried. Failed. Tried again. Failed again. I just don't have it in me. (But I do love to SoulPerSuit, which is a type of visual journaling. I'm not a total whack-o.)

I don't keep a journal, but I collect them. Yes indeed. Two bookstores in one weekend and I garnered TWO new journals. I heed their siren call, and then stack them on my shelves, enjoying the variety of sizes, colors, closures, binding, and printing; imagining what I will someday (when donkeys fly) write in them.

Is there a name for this kind of quirk? The I'll-Remember-The-Underwear-And-Hoard-Blank-Journals syndrome?
Does anyone else suffer from something similar? Does anyone out there actually write in journals? I'd sure love to shake your hand. And if you also habitually remember to pack your underwear, I probably ought to throw you a ticker-tape parade.

Ok, time to get to my packing. Starting with the underwear. See? I'm learning.

Labels: , ,

05 July 2007


Need to pop over to SoulPerBlog and leave a comment so you can perhaps, possibly, maybe, if-you're-lucky-and-the-purim-roll-in-your-favor, win a couple of books.

Am excitedly preparing to marry off my youngest sister next weekend, so I'm a bit out of the blogging habit these days.

Can flex with me on this, right?

Am glad you agree.

Labels: , ,

01 July 2007



Yippee skippy! It's here!

I just got my copy of 3.1.6. : A Journal of Christian Thinking in the mailbox today!

The SoulPerSuit team is in
quite the celebratory mood as a result of being published in 3.1.6.

So... get on your boogie shoes (mine are brown platforms) and be prepared to engage with us in frolicking play and confetti tossing.

We're hosting giveaways and prize drawings over at SoulPerBlog starting in July (which is next week, folks. Where does the time go?)
Three different exciting prizes for three different exciting drawings means three different exciting chances to win something!

Excited? I sure am. Kinda feels like forward motion to me. ;)

Labels: , , ,